Another Lost Boy
by cas-the-gayngel
Summary: Sam and Dean Winchester travel with Castiel to England in order to take a look at what appears to be an incline of werewolf activity. Upon their arrival, they meet a strange new man who calls himself The Doctor, and his friend Clara Oswald. The Doctor informs them that it is not werewolves, but a violent alien child from far away who will stop at nothing to get home.
1. Introduction

A small child shuffled aimlessly down the now-empty halls of his school. He looked to be about nine or ten, though it was obvious that he hadn't hit any growth spurts yet. He barely picked up his feet as he walked, lurching side to side in an almost zombie-like fashion. The air in the school was chilly, but he didn't seem cold in the slightest. His breath billowed out in great clouds from his mouth. Cupped between his hands was an ID tag, the lanyard stiff from frost and trailing off by his wrists. Normally, such a sight wouldn't be eerie in the slightest. But there was one thing wrong with the picture: blood coated the school uniform he wore.

Little spots dripped from the clothing and his shoes squeaked like he had just come in from a rainstorm. Wherever he stepped, little red-printed footsteps were left. In fact, it looked as if he had _bathed_ in the blood. Raising one tiny hand to wipe his eyes, the child grinned to show off equally stained -as well as pointed- teeth. The uniform's crest was splattered across diagonally as well, but it's pattern was intact. A silver serpent with ruby-red eyes biting its own tail. The shield-shaped crest was divided into four sections behind the serpent, the top right and bottom left being red with the other two sections being white. The serpent's eyes seemed to gleam maliciously in the pale moonbeams that seeped in from the tall windows. What little light that did manage to get into the school was obstructed by a thick layer of frost. It was beautiful, like white-gold leaves pressed up against the glass. But the child payed the old building's glory no attention. He was focused on where he needed to be.

He continued down the hallway, not pausing to look at any of the room numbers. The child knew where he was going by heart, he had no reason to glance at the little plaques by each door. Seeing as he moved rather slowly, it did take the boy a while to reach the class he was headed for. Reaching out a pale, spider-like right hand, he grasped the engraved silver doorknob and turned it. The cold metal burned into his flesh as if it was fire. The child smiled, the cold felt perfectly lovely to him, there was nothing he wasn't used to with the cold. With the same distinctively unsettling grin he pushed the door open. The room he had chosen looked like any other, it had the same creaky hardwood flooring, neat rows of desks, a chalkboard, and a teacher's closet. Moonlight streamed in through the windows, creating a pattern on the floor. Stepping inside, the child let the heavy door close behind him with a dull thud. His hand print in blood left on the doorknob and his tracks were gone by the next morning.


	2. Chapter One

Flying on a plane was never Dean Winchester's favorite thing. In fact, it was one of the few connections he had to normal people. Thankfully, he and Sam had Castiel to bring them to London. Upon landing in a dark alleyway, Dean staggered slightly. He didn't think that he would ever get used to angels. He did have to admit that he liked the sound of the wings. Their gentle flutter was actually quite comforting in the few seconds that had to be endured. A cool London breeze skittered past, blowing Sammy's hair right into his face. Cas's trench coat flapped against itself, mimicking the sound of his wings. Dean gripped the handles of his two duffle bags tightly. One for clothing, the other for his weapons. Sam held similar bags, while Castiel carried nothing but an angel blade concealed under his trench coat.

"Alright," the angel said, glancing at the tallest brother pulling hair out of his mouth. "We're here."

"I can see that, Cas," Dean said, rolling his leather jacket onto his shoulders. It was colder than he had expected it to be in London. Grey clouds rolled over the city, obscuring the sun. Dean flipped the cuff of his jacket back to look at his watch. _No, wait. London's on a different time_, he thought. Sam finally managed to get his hair out of the way, and Dean sighed. "Just ten minutes with the clippers, man," he pleaded. Sam's hair was impractical, anything that went bump in the night could just grab hold and that'd be the end of his little brother. Not to mention the fact that it just plain irritated Dean.

Sam took a step back, shaking his head slightly. Dean shrugged and stepped out of the alleyway to peer down the street. It was practically empty, an odd sight for London. The few people who were out were dashing to and fro, looking hurried and strained. Thunder rumbled overhead, and the hunter understood. Of course, everyone was inside because it was about to storm. Dean looked up, and a raindrop landed right on the tip of his nose. Sam and Castiel looked out of the alley as well, and Sam gestured down the street a little ways.

"Hey, there's a café. You can always stay there as long as you want as long as you keep ordering coffee. We can figure out what to do there," He said as he stepped out onto the sidewalk. Together, the three men made their way across the road and into the shop, just as it began to rain in earnest. The only other person in the café was a little old lady drinking tea, reading a book. She peered up over her glasses disapprovingly, and tightened her blue shawl around her shoulders.

The shop was run by a friendly Italian man in his mid-forties who spoke with a thick accent when asking what they'd like. Sam ordered black coffee and picked up a newspaper as well. Cas had already walked away from the counter and went to stand by the window. Dean got a coffee as well, but with two sugars. The man at the bar fixed the coffee quickly, and it was only until it came to paying that they realized they didn't have any pounds.

"Crap," Dean muttered, pulling a ten dollar bill out of his wallet. "Hey, do you, uh, take American money?" The man, still smiling, shook his head no. Dean turned to the angel, "Cas, can you…?" Sighing quietly, Cas walked over, grabbed the bill and was gone with a fluttering sound. The man at the counter looked astonished. "Oh, my friend's just into magic tricks. You know, hocus pocus, 'is this your card' sort of thing," Dean lied, closing his wallet and putting it back in his pocket. The Italian man nodded and exclaimed,

"Well, he is very good!" After a very obstinate pause, Cas came back, holding crumpled up notes in his hands. He stepped forwards, dumping them in front of the man. Although it was enough to cover their cost, the man seemed slightly annoyed when pulling the notes straight again. Once the uncomfortable transaction was complete, the three went to sit by the window. Sam skimmed over the newspaper, blowing on his coffee, while Dean and Cas both stared out the window. The rain was coming down in sheets; it would be unpleasant to go out again. After flipping over the last page of the paper, Sam tossed it down on the wooden table with a shake of his head. Dean reached for it, flipping through just as quickly as his younger brother. Nothing out of the ordinary.

"Well, that's that," Dean muttered, setting it down and looking out the window again. It didn't look like the rain was going to let up soon, and the café was much too small to discuss their quarry without having the other patron overhear. Cas stood up and strode over to the man at the counter again.

"Is there anywhere we could purchase an… umbrella nearby?" He asked, tilting his head to the right. The owner jolted his thumb to the door,

"Down the street to the right, about four shops down."

"Thank you. And it is not your fault that your wife wants a divorce," Cas said, going back to the table. He was about to place his fingers on the boy's foreheads and drag them to the other shop, but Dean held up his hand.

"Whoa there, tiger. We can walk, you know," he said softly, raising an eyebrow and standing up.

Once outside, they hurried down the sidewalk, collars turned up to the wind and rain. The store that the café owner had directed them to was in fact a convenience store. Instead of going buying three umbrellas, they asked the teenager working there if there was a lost and found. The kid pointed to the back, and from there they found three black umbrellas. Naturally, by the time they got out of the store, it had stopped raining.

"At least we've got umbrellas now," Sam muttered, storing his in a side pocket of the duffel bag. People began to flood the streets again, and the three men hurried down the road, searching for a map of some sort.

None of them noticed the strange blue boxes every few corners.


	3. Chapter Two

Pulling at strange instruments and twiddling dials, The Doctor whirled around the interior of his ship. The Doctor was an unusual man, owing to the fact that he was not a man at all, but a Time Lord. Two hearts, practically immortal, traveling around the universe in a blue box. He was tracking down the Winchester boys, and doing so rather poorly. It took six people to fly a TARDIS correctly, something that was obvious in the empty consol. Every few blocks, The Doctor would poke his head out of the TARDIS doors to check and make sure that he was on the right path. Of course, he could always use the monitors to locate them, but where was the fun in that?

Once the boys had found themselves in a motel room outside of the city, which The Doctor had jumped in time to, he settled outside of their door. Sam poked his head out at the noise and looked around, completely ignoring the blue box parked just to his left. Despite its size and color, the TARDIS always managed to go unnoticed by the humans, with the youngest Winchester being no exception. He pulled a face and went back inside, locking the door behind him. The Doctor smiled, finally using the monitors attached to the consol.

"The Winchesters, alright. What're you up to now…" He muttered, preparing to take off again. He planned to land right in their room, before they went to sleep. Hopefully they wouldn't object to travelling with a spaceman to meet their goals. The Doctor pulled down a lever, and the TARDIS shuddered, wheezing and growling. He patted the glass tube gently, knowing that the machine didn't like traveling only a few feet.

She landed a little harder than usual, throwing The Doctor to the ground. Quickly jumping up to his feet, The Doctor tugged his jacket correctly over his shoulders and straightened his blue bowtie. To the TARDIS, he said,

"Well, I'm sorry you're upset, but that's how it had to be done!" In response, the TARDIS opened the doors. "Oh alright, I'll be back later," The Doctor said, patting the doorframe as he walked out, only to see two guns pointed straight at his chest. Both of the Winchesters, who were taller than he was, stared down on The Doctor. "Ah, hello boys!" He said, clapping his hands together nervously. Sam spoke first.

"How the _hell_ did you get in here?" The Doctor's lips twitched up into a small smile.

"Do you really want to know?" He asked, glaring at the guns. "And I'd really appreciate it if you put those away. I'm not too fond of guns, you know." Castiel stood over by a bed, squinting over at the strange new man.

"I'm not puttin' down the gun until you answer him," Dean said, nodding his head over at Sam. The Doctor spun on his heel to face the TARDIS. He ran his palm down a short length of the door and gave a gentle pull on the handle. It was locked, good. Even though he was confident that the Winchesters and Castiel wouldn't do anything with it, they weren't Time Lords. Turning back to face them, The Doctor answered in a cheerful, if slightly strained, voice.

"I flew." Sam's brow furrowed, and he titled his head at Dean, pursing his lips.

"_You flew_. What, do you think I was born yesterday?" Dean said tersely. Frankly this man seemed a little too excited to be there with them. So he couldn't be a hunter, but there was something in his eyes that seemed almost … old. Like he'd been everywhere and seen some shit, like them.

"You are not of this world," Cas spoke up from the bedside.

"No, I'm not! The Doctor, nice to meet you!" He said, extending his arm to Dean first. Dean ignored it, but lowered the gun slightly.

"Cas, whaddaya mean 'not of this world?'"

"I do not know where exac-"

"Gallifrey. Planet of the Time Lords. You won't have heard of it, I wouldn't expect you to have," The Doctor said slightly less enthusiastically.

"So, you're an alien then?" Sam asked.

"Yes, yes I am."

"But you look human."

"No, _you_ look Time Lord. We came first, you see," The Doctor's child-like grin spread across his face again.

"I thought aliens didn't exist," Dean muttered, dropping his arm. Sammy glanced over at his big brother and quickly did the same.

"Really, Dean? After everything you've seen, you can't believe that there's life on other planets? How typically twenty-first century of you." The Doctor said, moving around the room to the windows in front, looking out before pulling the curtains shut. "In case you hadn't noticed, this box here makes quite a bit of noise, and I really don't want to draw attention to you."

"What the hell is that thing anyways?" Dean asked, kicking the threshold gently with the toe of his boot.

"The TARDIS, my spaceship."

"You have a vessel for traveling across the galaxy?" Cas asked, walking over to it. He placed his fingertips on the door, and his eyes widened.

"Yes. Well, a bit more than just a vessel." The angel drew away, and twitched his eyebrows up quickly. "And I wouldn't suggest kicking her; you don't want an angry TARDIS on your hands." The Doctor reprimanded Dean slightly, and the hunter stepped back, tossing his hands up in the air. His hand still clutched his ivory-handled pistol, but the safety was on and it wasn't pointed at the Time Lord. The Doctor relaxed a bit more, it was always just a little more pleasant when professional killers had their guns pointed anywhere but at you.

"So, Doc, what're you even doing here anyway?" Dean asked, sticking his gun back into the waistband of his jeans and sitting down on the bed. Castiel stared at the TARDIS quizzically. In all of his many years, he'd never seen anything like the strange little box sitting before him.

"Good question!" The Doctor said, dragging a chair from the table near the window. He spun it around to face the Winchesters, who had each occupied a bed. Cas squinted once more at the TARDIS and went to stand between the two boys. The Doctor sat in the cheap plywood chair and crossed his legs at the knee. "I have stumbled upon you three in the right timeline, correct? Where are you?"

"What?" Sam said. This man was getting more and more confusing by the second.

"Just tell me why you're in England."

"We're here looking into a werewolf case."

"I take it that it's not the usual kind, or else you wouldn't be here."

"Well, it made international news, so…" Sam trailed off.

"So you thought you'd check it out?"

"Well, yea." Sam finished with a slight shrug. He didn't see the point to the questions, but if Cas was right, he didn't want to mess with an alien.

"Oh, good. I thought I'd showed up too soon, again."

"That's great and all, but remember? Hey, what're you here for?" Dean asked, leaning forwards.

"I'm here for you three. It's not just a werewolf case, like Sam said. It's an alien child. He's far, far away from home, lost, and very dangerous. They're called the Volk, and they are actually quite closely related to werewolves."

"Are you meaning to say that werewolves are in fact from another world?" Cas asked.

"No, not all of them."

"So you want our help ganking the thing?" Dean said, looking quickly over at the other two.

"Heavens no! I want you to help me capture it and send it back to its planet!" The Doctor exclaimed. "I'll be back in the morning, so you can think about it overnight."

And without another word, he stood up and strode over to the TARDIS. Since it would piss her off to snap his fingers and show off, The Doctor fumbled for a moment with the key before disappearing inside. He made sure to close the door quickly, so that none of them could see what was inside of the battered little blue box. Approaching the consol again, The Doctor had the TARDIS jump to a very certain person's house. Clara, The Doctor's petite and courageous travelling companion. He tried to arrive at a convenient time, hoping it'd be right this time.


End file.
